Revelations
by Secretly Batman
Summary: Prequel to "Mistakes". Eric/Hyde slash, set during Season 1, Episode 22: Punk Chick. Complete, Eric's POV. He didn't know what he wanted until he found it. Rated only for slash, nothing explicit. Review, please! DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, unfortunately.
1. Realize

**Flashback – **October 10, 1968

---

"Watch it, Forman. Donna's _my _girlfriend, so go get bent, dillhole."

David Milbank laughs as he pushes me to the ground, sneering. Even at seven years old, I understand that it's pretty humiliating to have a nine-year-old with scoliosis and asthma beat you up behind the back wall of your school. Donna giggles too, pulling Milbank's hand. "Let's go," she says, with a mean glance at me.

I'm still on the ground, nose bleeding and face red. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for a miracle, for anything, before I hear another voice.

"Hey—"

I look up in time to see a small fist connect with Milbank's chin. He howls, limping away with Donna in tow. Amazed, I look up at the curly-hair kid in front of me who is now shaking his head and rubbing his knuckles. He looks down at me and I scramble to my feet. "That was—thanks."

His incredible blue eyes survey me calmly. "Yeah. Whatever." He turns to go.

"Wait!" I stop. I want him to stay, and I don't know why. "Would you—I mean—what if David comes back? And, you know, beats me up again?"

"Then he comes back. Not my problem." The kid starts to walk away.

"What I mean to say is—would you walk me home?" The words come out rushed, and my eyes are wide as I wait for his answer.

After a moment, he sighs. "Sure. Whatever, man." I grin.

"But you owe me a quarter."

---

I don't know why this particular memory, the first time I ever met Hyde, pops into my head as I finish clearing the plates from dinner. I think it's because from the moment I spoke to him, looked at him, I somehow knew that he'd always be a fixture in my life. Even years later, when we were smoking up in the basement or hanging around The Hub after school, I knew it'd always be me and Hyde. The two of us, together always.

Later, after I started dating Donna, I began to see four people in my vision of the future: Donna, me, Hyde, and whoever Hyde ended up with. But it was consistent: he was my best friend, and I knew he was here to stay.

He had to be.

That's why when we found out he was leaving for New York, it hit me the hardest. Steven Hyde couldn't be leaving Point Place. It was like I had told him on the steps that night at Edna's—we were finally getting old enough to do some serious damage to this town!

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I can't think about him leaving. "It hurts too much," I mutter to myself, then frown.

_Did I just say that?_

My feelings surprise me. Do I . . .?

No. There are no feelings. Stop it. You have Donna, you love Donna, Hyde's your best friend—

I shake the discomforting thoughts out of my head, putting the last of the plates in the sink and walking out of the kitchen.

As I walk down the basement stairs, head still in the clouds, I almost don't notice the curly haired boy slumped on the couch, watching _Donahue. _

My heart skips a beat and I swallow hard. _He stayed. Hyde's staying. He's not leaving._ My thoughts are racing a mile a minute, so I decide to play it cool as I jump over the couch and sit down next to him, praying I look a lot calmer than I feel.

He turns to look at me, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. "You surprised to see me?"

I smile slightly. "Nah, I knew you'd stay."

"Yeah, we've been friends way too long."

The same odd feeling returns to chest and I don't know what to say. After a moment, I decide that resorting to wit is my best option.

"No, Chrissy just drove by with some guy on the back of her bike."

Hyde looks at me, surprised. After a moment, he feigns indifference again. "Poor kid," he says mock-sympathetically. "She's grieving."

I laugh. "So you're okay, man?"

"Of course I'm okay."

"Alright. Well . . . You wanna get high anyways?"

He grins.


	2. You Shook Me

Hyde strikes a match and lights the joint, sitting cross-legged on his cot across from me. I grin in anticipation. Hyde takes the first drag; he was never one for chivalry. I smile at this thought, taking the joint as Hyde exhales smoke and settles back against the wall.

"_Fuck._" He draws the word out quietly, grinning like an idiot. I take a drag, holding it in my lungs for as long as I can.

We continue trading drags of the diminishing blunt for a good fifteen minutes until we're both completely stoned. We laugh together, talking about _the random-est shit,_ as Hyde puts it, then lapsing into a comfortable silence next to each other on the cot.

It's only through my weed-influenced lack of inhibitions that I'm brave enough to ask him. Staring up at the Hyde's bookshelf, which, for reasons unknown, is striking me as hilarious, I turn to him.

"So . . . Hyde, man . . . like, why were you gonna leave Point Place? Don't you . . . don't you _love us_ . . . ?" I break off, lapsing into a series of undignified giggles. Man, I'm baked.

Hyde is silent for a good three minutes before answering. At one point, I'm afraid he's fallen asleep, but for some reason I can't get my mouth to work in order to verbally prod him. Just as I'm about to give up on expecting an answer, Hyde begins to speak slowly.

"I mean . . . there was this one person, right? And I just . . . I couldn't stand being around them anymore, you know? It—" He breaks off, frowning, then laughing. Then he looks at me like he's just noticing I'm there. "Hey, Forman, man! So me and Kelso were in the basement yesterday—"

I grab his shoulders and shake him. "Hyde. Focus. It what? What were you gonna say, man?"

He's silent again, and this time it seems even longer. Then he blinks, letting his eyes stay shut for just a little too long.

"It hurts too much."

My mouth drops open, and I stare at him. "You—" I can't find words. My thoughts from earlier today come back to me and I sit there in silence for a moment.

"So, then, um." I swallow. "Um, who was the person?" I ask, only half-expecting an answer.

But Hyde stands up.

"You, man," he says simply, as he walks over to stub out the joint.


	3. The Fourth Drink Instinct

It takes me about five minutes because I'm still pretty fucked up, but suddenly his words register. A new emotion clouds my high—anger.

"Hold on." I stand up unsteadily. "You were gonna leave because of me?"

Hyde stares at me. I don't think my words even register. Every good feeling the weed provided is gone, and I'm left with an intense hurt in the middle of my chest. He was leaving Point Place because of me.

"You . . . What did I _do_? I thought—" I break off. I have no idea what I was going to say. The pot smoke is making my head hurt and my eyes water, and I blink furiously as I turn to look at him.

"Look, man, it's not like that, you—you didn't do anything—" _It hurts too much. _His words, and mine, return to me.

"So then _what_? I mean, I don't know what else to fucking _say_ to you—"

"Jesus, Forman." He stands up, looking unsure of his footing. His eyes, bloodshot and confused, narrow as he looks at me.

"_What_? Just tell me, what was so fucking important that you needed to leave me?" My mind, wiped clean from the weed and anger, reminds me quietly not to phrase it like that, because Hyde isn't an idiot and he's gonna figure out how I feel about him.

_Not that I feel anything. Christ, stop it, Eric._

But I can't take my words back, so I push the thoughts out of head, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for an answer.

"Because I couldn't stay here for another second, knowing that you'll always be in love with someone else."

His words come quietly and for a second, they don't even register.

"I just—" His voice breaks and I suddenly can't breathe.

A minute passes, us staring at each other in excruciating silence.

He slowly takes off his sunglasses, eyes unfocused and breathing sharply. I notice numbly that his cheeks are wet. He walks closer to me, until our faces are only inches apart.

"It's always been you," he whispers.

I think I'm hallucinating.

He grabs my shoulders roughly, eyes searching mine, leaning closer to me. And with disbelief, I hear him say one word just before his mouth meets mine, a word I don't think I've ever heard from him–

"_Eric._"

My name sounds beautiful coming off his lips.


	4. Go On, Say It

And before my drugged up brain can even understand what's going on, I'm grabbing his shoulders and kissing him back fiercely. Everything in my entire world seems to make sense and I realize vaguely that this is what I've always wanted.

Not that it matters. Not that my mind is even fucking working right now. All I can focus on is his hands in my hair and his lips on mine, and my hands sliding up the back of his neck as I smile into the kiss—

—And it was never like this before, so what changed? I've never wanted this with anyone else, boy or girl. I don't think I'm gay, I think it's just that I'm so in love with him that it doesn't matter what he is. I've never felt like this with anyone else, not even Donna.

Donna.

My thoughts slip back to her—Donna, my girlfriend, with her beautiful laugh and long red hair and the way it feels so different to kiss her. I love her. I've always loved her, just in a different way. And I'm cheating on her right now. The weed is a bullshit excuse. This thought hits me hard, and I pull away from Hyde.

"Hyde, I—" And I'm gasping for air as his eyes widen, wondering what the hell I'm gonna say.

"It—Donna—" I stammer, stumbling over my words and backing towards the door. I finally choke out the words, but he already knows what I'm going to say.

"This was a mistake." It hurts so much to say.

Hyde is silent for a moment. Then he laughs bitterly. "Yeah, no, I know. We were just high, right? That's all." I stare at him. I don't believe him. I don't want to believe him. He smiles again, retreating behind the Zen. "Now get out of my room, Forman," he says lightly.

He puts on his sunglasses as I walk out the door.


	5. Anyone Else But You

The last fucking thing I want right now is to cry, but I do anyway. My body racks in great, heaving sobs, and tears cloud my vision as I climb into the Vista Cruiser. I fumble with the keys and finally the car starts, shakily bolting out of the driveway. I don't have any idea where I'm planning on going, but I know I need to get away for a while.

My brain must be on autopilot, because after a few minutes I find myself at The Hub. By then the tears have stopped and I'm left with a hollow, bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. I clamber out of the car and open the door to The Hub. A flash of red hair catches my eye—Donna's here, sipping a soda and reading a book.

She's the last person in the world I want to see, and the one person I need to talk to.

I walk over to the table where she's sitting and clear my throat. She sees me and her green eyes light up. "Eric!" She exclaims, standing up and kissing me softly on the lips. My hands are shaking.

I wonder how it's possible for one person to feel so guilty.

She pulls away, and I know she can tell something's wrong. Her brow furrows and her eyes search mine. "What—?" She starts to ask, but I cut her off.

"We—we need to talk." My voice is hoarse. Donna blinks.

"Yeah . . . yeah, okay . . . um, let me just grab my coat, okay?" She flashes me a quick smile that doesn't completely mask her worried expression. "Let's go to the reservoir."

---

I scramble up the last step of the water tower's ladder, and stand facing Donna beside the railing. I lick my lips nervously as she asks me why we're here. I have to just do it.

"I'm pretty sure I need to break up with you."

My words come out calmly, measured, even though I'm fucking hyperventilating and praying she doesn't cry. Oh God, please don't let me have made her cry.

_Smack!_

Well. She's not crying.

My face stings. She's slapped me before, but not like this, not like she meant it, like she really wanted me to hurt. "What the _hell_, Eric?" She's screaming at me, choking on her words, and I have to shut my eyes so she won't see me cry.

"It's not you, Donna—oh, fuck, that's really clichéd—but it's not, it's me, I'm . . . in love with someone else." I wince, expecting another blow, but nothing comes. I open my eyes to see her face, shocked and hurt.

"W-what?" Now she's the one who's crying, and I wrap my arms around her. "Look, Donna, it's . . . it's not what you think . . ." I let go of her, looking her in the eyes as I take a deep breath.

"It's Hyde."

She looks at me blankly.

"I'm in love with Hyde."

Nothing.

Seconds pass, her eyes wide and searching, both of us unmoving.

Then suddenly she laughs, of all things, a bitter smirk crossing her face as she pulls away from me and leans against the railing. "I mean, it's not like I didn't see this coming," she says quietly.

Of all the mind-numbingly, shockingly, out-of-the-blue, _odd_ things I've heard all night, this one hits me hardest. "You—you saw this coming? Donna, what—_I_ didn't even see this coming. I mean, we just kissed for the first time tonight—"

"You kissed?" She asks me. But this time, she doesn't look angry, just curious, and . . . amused?

"Yeah. Like, half an hour ago. And . . . I told him it was a mistake. I walked away." Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes again, and I brush them away angrily.

"What? What the hell for?" And then Donna's laughing and looking at me like _I'm_ the crazy one, even though she's the girl who just got cheated on with a guy and apparently doesn't give a shit.

"What for? Donna, I—I cheated on you! I couldn't do that to you, not while we were still together . . ." I trail off. Her eyes grow soft as she takes my hand.

"Yeah. But we're not. You just dumped me. And look, Eric—I'm not gonna pretend that this doesn't hurt, but . . . I want you to be happy. And I want Hyde to be happy. And . . ." She leans up to kiss my cheek before pulling away and grinning. "And it's not like you were making any progress with the second base thing, anyway."

I laugh, surprised. Then I reach out and pull her close. "I love you, Donna. I always will."

"I love you too, Eric." She breaks the hug and smiles up at me. "Now go get him."


	6. Epilogue

Within ten minutes I find myself back in the basement, staring at Hyde's bedroom door. Mouth dry and hands shaking, I reach up to knock, then stop myself. I think of earlier that night:

"_It's always been you._"

Hyde saying my name. Hyde's intensely blue, apprehensive eyes as he leans in to kiss me. His hands in my hair, his chest pressing against mine.

For me, I realize, it's always been him.

I'm thinking of nothing but his face as I reach out and open the door.


End file.
